


I Think You’re the Same as Me (we see things they’ll never see)

by Apsacta



Series: Cover (me with love) [4]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25305442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apsacta/pseuds/Apsacta
Summary: The last days, the last years, everything since the beginning of TwoSet, since that first video where they looked like idiots, before anyone watched, before anything happened, blends together inside his mind.
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Cover (me with love) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803088
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	I Think You’re the Same as Me (we see things they’ll never see)

∞ [**Live Forever** (Oasis Cover)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3DalXtn0nM) – Martin McDonnell ∞

There’s something about the sight of Eddy sleeping in a real bed for the first time in days, limbs outstretched and mouth open on almost indecent teeth, that fills Brett’s chest with something very much akin to heartbreak.

It’s a new feeling, this, a new worry that settled in his heart somewhere over the course of the last five days. He doesn’t know if something’s changed during this week or if it’s just exhaustion slowly taking over the last sane space in his brain.

The last days, the last years, everything since the beginning of TwoSet, since that first video where they looked like idiots, before anyone watched, before anything happened, blends together inside his mind. Encouraging comments under videos and disparaging whispers behind their backs, concerned but unwanted advice, parental worry, all melt together and he doesn’t know who’s said what anymore, can’t remember who was supportive and who called them fools for even trying.

Brett’s too tired to remember who came up with the non-stop busking idea, hopes that it’s not him but kind of fears that it might be.

He feels like he’s aged five years in the space of five days, is afraid that Eddy’s aged a hundred, that Eddy won’t ever get a proper sleeping schedule back, that he’ll deal with insomnia for months to come.

He doesn’t regret a thing.

They’d started on a high because they had this project, this wild dream cradled inside their chest, because they had followers, because people watched the livestreams and came to meet them, because they were together, and together they could do anything, absolutely anything, even make this crazy insane dream come true.

He never thought, then, that it would get to this, that it would be so hard, especially at night.

Brett doesn’t know if he’s exhausted or exhilarated anymore. It’s all the same, feelings melting into lava. He doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know how to think anymore.

Eddy’s asleep, though, at last, after Brett’s seen the excitement leave his frame at one sweep, leaving him crumpled on the bed like an old discarded ragdoll. He’s watched Eddy toss and turn for ages, fight for sleep, eyes filled with exhaustion, mouth making less and less sense, tired to his bones, tired to his brain, his fatigue mirroring Brett’s, raw and vulnerable.

There’s something about the sight of Eddy sleeping in a real bed for the first time in days, that fills Brett’s chest with something very much akin to rage, with something that feels a lot like revenge, like the petty need to tell everyone who ever doubted them where to stick it, anyone who ever doubted that he would do anything, absolutely anything for this man, that they were wrong.

He doesn’t regret a thing, and he’d do it all again if he has to.

He’s exhilarated and exhausted and maybe a little bit delirious, but Eddy’s never looked so pretty, mouth open and teeth showing, sprawled on the bed like a giant octopus, and Brett’s chest fills with something that he can’t name.

This was the ultimate test, he thinks in delighted rapture, and nothing that happens after this can break them anymore.

And now he’ll take Eddy on a tour of the world, or Eddy will take him, he doesn’t know anymore, can’t tell who’s pushing the other, who’s leaning on the other, who’s needing the other the most. Maybe it’s not even need anymore, maybe it’s a symbiotic relationship that benefits them both.

He’s tired and exhilarated and exhausted and delirious, maybe, but he knows that they’ll go to places familiar and unfamiliar, known and unknown, that they’ll stand on top of skyscrapers to stare at the night, that they'll take pictures with hundreds of strangers (thousands, really, but he can't fathom that yet), that he’ll see the snow for the first time.

He knows it’ll be hard and they’ll struggle, and work through it by trial and error, make mistakes and hopefully learn from them. He knows that they’ll laugh and play and grow.

And that they’ll be together.

**Author's Note:**

> After sad hours™, we now return to our regularly scheduled programming. Have this innocuous thing for a change.  
> This is the first one that makes me feel the unfairness of the concept so acutely. I wanted to say so much more. But ding ding, I had to stop here.


End file.
